Couldn't Be
by BeautifulLie1313
Summary: From time to time he would glance up at her, his piercingly green eyes taking on a rather soft quality. Almost as if... But it couldn't be. Crack pairing, SpainXSeychelles.
1. Prologue

**AN: Wow, this is shorter than I thought it'd be. Well, some (maybe all) of you are wondering about the pairing. Well, here it is. This is my new favourite crack pairing. Why, might you ask? Well, I happen to be a Spain cosplayer and rp-er, and being the lucky bastard that I am, I somehow managed to end up dating a wonderful, beautiful girl who happens to cosplay Seychelles. Hence the pairing. I wasn't originally going to write this, but my friend requested a story immediately after hearing about my relationship. So there you have it. And to those of you reading this who also read ILYIJDKIY, or the Spanish version (but if you speak Spanish, you probably won't read this story), or if you read Matt's Piano, I KNOW. I need to update. I haven't been. I suck. ILY won't get updated until I write the next chapter in Spanish, which I don't really want to do even though I should. The other thing about that story is that I've stopped shipping almost all of those pairings... So I might keep writing just for the readers, but eh... We'll see. And about the sequel to Matt's Piano, I PROMISE, it's coming. I don't know when, but it should be soon. So now that my author's note is almost as long as the story, please enjoy!**

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><p>Sometimes, when he came to visit France, she would watch him from afar. She found herself becoming absolutely fascinated with the man, who's beautiful accent would float of the walls of her home on odd occasions when he would drop by unannounced. It was a very innocent crush that she harbored on her father's young friend. She liked the way he laughed, loud and uninhibited, and the way he would sigh and run a hand through his wavy brown locks. She liked the gleam and sparkle of his deep green eyes, and the earnestness of his smile.<p>

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, he would bring his guitar. He would play beautiful, lively songs, and sing along, his voice deep and sweet. The songs he sang were always different. Sometimes they spoke of joy and passion, and other times of sadness and desperate pining. She would occasionally muster up the bravery to enter into the room as he played, sitting in front of him and observing him with a deep fascination. From time to time he would glance up at her, his piercingly green eyes taking on a rather soft quality.

Almost as if... But it couldn't be.

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, Antonio would get the feeling that he was being watched. He would notice amber eyes peeking at him from the staircase, trailing him as he walked the familiar corridors of Francis's house. It wasn't a feeling he particularly minded. In fact, when those amber eyes would turn away, he would often find himself observing their lovely owner with his own green ones. It was a very innocent crush he harbored on his friend's daughter, who had blossomed fully and beautifully into adulthood. He liked the way she smiled, sometimes soft and timid, and at other times wide and free. He liked the sharp contrast between the innocent expression she would wear and the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and the sing-songy quality of her voice, when she did choose to speak.

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, Antonio would bring his guitar. More and more, he found that lyrics of the songs he played and sang were a reflection of the things he wished he could say to her. Sometimes his words were joyful and passionate, and at other times they were solemn and full of longing. He savored the moments when she would come to sit in front of him as he played. From time to time he would glade up at her, to find her gazing at him in a sweet and tender way.

Almost as if... But it couldn't be.

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><p><strong>AN: If you liked it, I might be persuaded to continue. Maybe. It could be fun to make a story out of this.<strong>


	2. Pretty Face

**AN: So in order to continue this, I realized that this story had to stop being merely fluff and grow a plot. Mmmmmmm, plot. So I did what I could. If you find yourself having as many issues with it as I do, PM me. We'll rant for hours until everything is sleek and shiny and chrome. Because this is the future, and everything's chrome. ****It's a little bit longer this time. Hopefully the chapters will just get longer as the story progresses. However, longer chapters means that there will likely be more of a gap between updates. Just to let you know.**

**Thank you to all the people who chatted on the phone with me for hours so that I could be happy with this chapter. I apologize that writing is such a long, difficult process for me.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Antonio was never one for waiting around. After all, he <em>is <em>the country of passion. And the passionate don't simply wait around for what they want to come to them; they reach out and take it!

Right?

At least, that's what he tells himself as he ambles up the walkway to France's door, knowing that today his friend will not be the one to answer when he knocks. If he knocks. It's a 30 second walk to the door and already his confidence is wavering. He knows that he will be greeted by fiery amber eyes and a bright sunny smile, and he isn't so sure if he'll be able to keep his composure once he is within a five foot radius of this girl. Spain never goes running for the hills from a pretty face, but this one is different. This pretty face seems to watch his every move with a focused intensity, giggles sweetly when he does or says something stupid, lights up when he says her name.

Most importantly, this pretty face belongs to his best friend's daughter.

How long has it been, exactly, since he first started pining over her? He knows it started around Christmas a few years ago, but exactly how many years ago, he can't be sure. He had already known her for a while, and they had always gotten on just fine, but there was this _one_ moment… All three of them, Francis, Antonio, and Sesel had been outside in the snow. She had called out to him, and he had turned to face a beautiful sight that will forever be engrained in his mind. Snowflakes clung to her hair and eyelashes, her cheeks were bright red, and her smile was wider than he had ever seen. She was laughing already, and she began to taunt him in an almost loving way for the stupid expression on his face. She hit him in the chest with a snowball, and an arrow went through his heart.

He's been spending too much time with Francis.

He figures that maybe it can be called love at first sight, because that was the first moment he had every really opened up his eyes and truly _seen_ her. He thought about her a lot after that day. How she can always make him laugh, make him smile, cheer him up when he is down. Her personality is as sunny as his, and he guesses that was what really did him in.

He only hopes that she might feel the same.

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><p>He's been standing on the porch for at least five minutes now. Sesel is wondering why he's here when her father is out, and why he hasn't knocked. More importantly, she's trying to figure out what she's going to do when he finally does knock, and she has to get the door. She's never been alone with him before, and she's terrified of making a fool of herself.<p>

He finally knocks. Sesel braces herself and answers the door. "Bonjour," she says, in as cheery of a tone as she can manage with the butterflies frolicking in her stomach. He smiles down at her. "Hola. Erm… Is Francis here?" She looks up at him, confused. She was sure that he knew that her father would be out today. She definitely remembers him telling Antonio not to stop by. So why is he here? Certainly he didn't come just to see her…

"He's out," she says, more bluntly than she intends to. He doesn't even look disappointed, only a bit troubled. "Oh… may I come in?" She shoots him an odd look. Did she not _just_ tell him that her father is out? Still, he did ask politely. "Sure… I guess. Why?" He looks away momentarily before replying, "I want to talk to you."

…He wants to talk. He wants to talk, to _her. _She tells herself that it probably means nothing, but she still feels somewhat lightheaded as she lets him into the house and leads him to the living room. Sesel shakily sits down next to him on the couch and they linger in silence for a moment before Sesel works up the courage to speak. "So… what was it you wanted to talk about?" Antonio looks away pensively before speaking. "Well… there's something I want to tell you. And I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I always found reasons not to. And I can still think of about a hundred excuses, but that's all they are. Excuses. And I don't need excuses anymore. I'm supposed to be the country of passion, so I need to stop running. I don't want to lose before I'm even out the gate." He glances down at the floor, and sighing runs a hand through his hair. Then he looks right at her, his green eyes piercing into her own amber ones. "Sesel… I have feelings for you. Maybe I'm not supposed to, but I do, and I honestly don't believe that's in danger of changing any time soon. I suppose I just wanted you to know, and maybe…" Antonio trails off, staring at her with hopeful eyes.

Sesel's head is spinning.

She wants to tell him yes, she feels the same. She wants to tell him that she's had these feelings for so long, she can barely remember when they started, and that every time she looks at him, her heart flutters, and every time he speaks to her, it soars.

She wants to tell him all these things, but she cannot find the words.

She doesn't need them. Someone else speaks for her.

"Antonio… get out of my house."

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><p><strong>AN: Oooooh... Somebody's in troooouuuble! *shot*<strong>


	3. Hola, Adios

**AN: DRAMA? IN THE THIRD CHAPTER? *everyone gasps* *****Iggy Voice* WHO THE BLOODY HELL DOES THIS BITCH THINK SHE IS? *End Iggy Voice* I'm the author, that's who. And I call the shots. That being said, I'm not a fan of this chapter, but it's something that needed to be done. I'm a bit concerned that this story is going to get too "Romeo and Juliet" for my liking, but I'll try to stay away from that as much as possible.**

**I'm thinking of changing the rating to T. I swear too much OTL.**

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><p>"Francis, I—"<p>

"Out! Get out of here right now!" Francis is seething with anger, and it shows. Antonio has no idea how much he's heard, but obviously it was enough to set him off. If looks could kill, Antonio would be bled out on the floor.

He turns to Sesel. She looks incredibly supervised, and her mouth hangs slightly open as if she wants to say something.

She does. "Mon pere…why are you so angry?"

"Sesel, go to your room."

"Mon pere—"

"Sesel, now!"

She does not move. After a moment of consideration, Antonio dares to speak. "Sesel…Maybe you should…"

Francis shoots him another furious glare. "Antonio, what the hell are you still doing here?"

He finally gets the hint. Turning to leave, Sesel shoots him one last hopeful glance. She moves to reach out to him, , but Francis pulls her away.

Antonio takes his leave. Hundreds of thoughts are buzzing through his head. Will Francis be angry with him forever? Will he have to choose between Francis and Sesel? Given the choice, which one would he pick? How could he possibly make a decision like that?

What if he loses them both?

Francis is—or at least, he was, as at this point Antonio isn't sure if the Frenchman will ever want to see his face again—his best friend. They've been with each other through absolutely everything, since the two of them were mere children. Antonio has been Francis's protector numerous times, and Francis has always been there to catch him when he falls. Antonio can't even begin to imagine what life would be like without the Frenchman by his side.

But at the same time, his feelings for Sesel have progressed to such a point where he in unable to see his life without her in it. When he begins to picture what the future might hold for him, she is always there, and Antonio likes it that way. He doesn't want to lose her, not before he finds out if she feels the same as he does. Ideally, Francis will be understanding and Antonio won't have to deal with losing either of them. Ideally, this will be just a small bump in the road that leads to a better tomorrow.

He's being overly optimistic.

Hey, a man can dream, right?

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><p>Her father is furious.<p>

She's not sure how much of Antonio's confession he'd actually heard, but she can tell that he heard all he needed to in order to be so incredibly angry.

He tells her to go to her room.

She's 20 years old. There's no way in hell she's taking an order like that.

She doesn't go. Antonio, perhaps trying to be the good guy, suggests that she listen to her father, but is simply asked to leave again. It isn't fair. None of this is fair, and if she were still young she would jump up and down, and scream at her father, throw a real fit.

Sesel doesn't do that though. Instead she reaches out to grab Antonio's arm, try to keep him from leaving, and is stopped by her father. Her stupid, stubborn father, who wants to keep her from a great guy, a guy who cares about her. So unfair.

And just like that, he is gone.

And she is left all alone and unprepared to face her father. She can see that he is practically steaming with anger, but whether that anger is for her or Antonio, she does not know. Perhaps it's both.

Neither of them is saying anything. Sesel feels that she ought to speak, but she's having trouble collecting all her thoughts and emotions.

"Sesel, I want you to be honest with me. Do you have feelings for… for _that man_?"

She glares at him, anger starting to rise in her chest. "Antonio, father. You know his name, you know everything about him! He's not just some strange man, he's your _best_ friend, and—"

"Sesel," Francis says, cutting her off in a shaky but authoritative tone. "Do you, or do you not, have feelings for… Antonio?"

Sesel looks him dead in the eyes. "I do."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A while."

"Sesel! God dammit, how long?"

"A few years."

"Really? That long?"

She nods, never breaking eye contact. He nods back, his face steeled with an angry but yet frighteningly calm expression.

"He won't be coming by anymore," he says decisively.

She shrugs this off. "I can just go see him."

"In who's car?" Francis sighs exasperatedly. "Sesel, you live in my house, and as such—"

"I only live here because I don't have enough money to live on my own! Once I get back on my feet you'll have _nothing _ to hold over my head!"

"Sesel, I am your father—"

"Oh grow up, Francis! Sometimes people like each other. It's a thing that happens, and it's not going to change just because _you_ say so, just because _you're_ my father! It wouldn't matter if you were the damn queen of England, you have no control over who I fall for. _I _barely have a say in that!"

"You're _my_ child. I'm the parent here. I am _done_ having this discussion."

Sesel shoots him an angry glare and, ignoring Francis's protests, storms out the door.

She needs a walk to clear her head.

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><p>20 minutes or so after Sesel leaves, Francis hears a knock on the door.<p>

He's expecting his daughter.

Instead he gets a very apologetic, very cold looking Spaniard.

He should just the slam the door in his face.

Instead, he says, "Sesel isn't here, what the hell do you want?"

Antonio lifts his sorry head to look at the Frenchman. "Amigo… I had no idea you would be so angry. That's the last thing I want. I've been thinking, and… I'm going to respect your wishes. I'll leave Sesel alone, I'll even take back my confession. Which is going to hurt like hell, if I'm being honest, but… it's for the best. I don't want to lose you as a friend."

Francis doesn't know what to say. He isn't sure if he's quite ready to welcome Antonio back into his home just yet. "Perhaps it would be best… if you just stayed away from us for a while… you know, until this dies down a bit. You spend so much time here, and it's not that I haven't liked having you around," Francis loves Antonio's company dearly, but at the moment is focused more on keeping his daughter away from him. "Maybe you should go out, you know, meet new people."

Fall for someone else.

"Oh…si… Alright… I'll do that. Adios, Francis." He drives off, leaving Francis to wonder if he has really made the right decision.


	4. I Do Surrender And Other Things

**AN: Oh dear. So, I'm so so so so so sorry. Seriously. This past, like, month has been a little... whoo. Just absolutely ridiculous, so I haven't really been writing at all. Well, that's a lie, I've been working on my own novel, but that's only during the time I get to hide in the corner somewhere with my notebook. **

**And really, all that's gotten me through all this is my beautiful, lovely, fantastic girlfriend, a.k.a. my Seychelles. So, let's all give her a round of applause. What would I even do with her to keep me from driving off into forever and never coming back? :D So on a slightly different note, the rating of this story has been changed to "T". Now don't worry, that means pretty much nothing other than I have a horrible, horrible potty mouth. It's bad, guys, it's bad. But to fair, it was my girlfriend who told me to call Toni a "cockhammer" in this chapter. Don't ask me, I don't know what it means either. **

**So before I keep stalling, here's the next chapter, now with 25% more AWESOME. ;)**

***the club scene was just an excuse to put Toni in tight leather pants. forgive me for being a terrible person and an even worse author.***

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><p>Antonio is standing in the middle of a hot, sweaty crowd of people, surrounded by flashing strobe lights and crappy blaring pop music. He's wearing impossibly tight leather pants and a bright red shirt that was designed with very few buttons at the top.<p>

All this translates to Antonio feeling incredibly uncomfortable and wondering why he let Gilbert talk him into this.

Speaking of Gilbert, a pale hand swims through the strobe light air as if in slow motion and grabs Antonio firmly on the rear end. The Spaniard grits his teeth and tries not to flinch.

"Shake your ass, Toni, no one's going to find you interesting if you just stand around in a place like this!"

Antonio shakes his head. "I'm really not looking to meet anybody anyway, Gil." Honestly, Antonio just wants to be at home, or with… no, that's not an option. He just wants to be at home. There are definitely times when he's up for going out and dancing with Gilbert, but now is not one of those times. Not after what happened yesterday. "Actually, Gil," Antonio says, stepping away from his Prussian friend, "I think I'm going to head home. I'm not feeling too good." Antonio gives the other man a half hearted wave before turning to make his way through the crowd.

The Spaniard gets to his car and starts to drive. He should just head home, like he told Gilbert he intended to. But some sort of deeper desire inside him forces him to drive somewhere else.

He drives to Francis's house.

He stands on the porch for a while, wondering if he should knock. But Francis's car is in the driveway, and Antonio knows if he knows, the Frenchman will likely get to the door before Sesel has a chance to even move.

Antonio is suddenly struck with memories of scaling the walls of Francis's decadent home to sneak into his room when the two of them were younger. He wonders if he can do the same today, and knock and Sesel's window, bypassing the Frenchman entirely. It seems like a somewhat stupid idea. It'd be a hard feat to accomplish, especially in his current attire and in the almost pitch darkness of the night.

Antonio being, well, Antonio, decides to try it anyway.

He climbs up the side of the house, using jutting out bricks, vines, and other appendages of the building as foot and hand holds. Upon reaching Sesel's room, he finds that her window has been left ajar. Still, he doesn't want to just let himself in. He knocks politely on the glass.

Nothing.

He knocks again.

Still, no response.

Tentatively, he swings his legs around and sits on the window ledge, facing into the room and leaning forward a bit.

Two things happen at once.

First, he vaguely hears a soft female voice whisper-shouting something that sounds like, "Not today, cockhammer!"

However, he can't be entirely sure what he heard, as he is far too distracted by the hot, searing pain that comes along with being punched—rather hard, mind you—right in the crotch.

Luckily enough for Antonio, he falls forward into the room and on to his knees instead of plummeting backwards and down to his death.

As the pain slowly subsides and his vision begins to clear, he looks up from the floor to see that his attacker is none other than Sesel herself, looking down at him with a surprised and slightly embarrassed expression. "S-sorry," she says, blushing a bit as she looks down at the pained Spaniard, who's still somewhat incapable of forming words. "I thought you were a burglar." She extends a hand to him and helps him up. Antonio stands, and he notices Sesel's expression change from apologetic to angry when he smiles sweetly down at her. This time, she _definitely_ says, "You cockhammer!" when she kicks him, once more, right in the balls.

Antonio falls to the floor again, the kick hurting even more than the punch had. The two things running through his mind, if he is to honest, are "Ay dios mios, my poor Spanish cojones," and "What is a cockhammer, and why did she call me one?" Perfectly acceptable things for a man who is in immense pain to think about, he figures.

He slowly manages to catch his breath and stand up shakily. Leaning forward a bit and setting his hands on his knees to steady himself, he looks at her and bows his head in both pain and surrender.

"Please…don't…do…that…again," he manages to utter breathily, quite an accomplishment after having the wind (and other things) knocked out of him, not once, but twice. "Just… tell me…why…you're angry."

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><p>Why is she angry?<p>

Oh boy, where should she start?

"You want to know why I'm mad at you, Antonio? I'm mad at you because you dropped a _huge_ bombshell on me and then just _left_, left me to deal with my father and his angry, overprotective bullcrap! And then, in an effort to fix things, or be the good guy, or something equally self-righteous and _stupid_, you tell my father that you're going to 'back off', _completely_ disregarding how _I_ might feel about that!" Usually, small, timid Sesel would never be so bold with anyone, especially not a muscular man who looms almost a foot over her head and who looks like he could crush her skull into bits between his large, farm worker's hands. However, this man _is_ Antonio, and not only is he sweet as sugar but he's already confessed to having feelings for her. She feels safe yelling at him like this, so… yell she will. "

And it doesn't stop there," she continues, "oh no! Now you've got the _nerve_ to come back here—looking, you know, really cute and stuff, and red looks really good on you, but that's irrelevant and I'm rambling—to what, tell me that you've changed your mind _again_? To tell me that you really do want to be with me and you won't let Francis get in our way, or something stupid and dumb and cheesy like that? You're an unbelievable _jerk_, Antonio!"

"You think I look cute?"

It's really all she can do not to kick him in the crotch again.

"You idiot, you entirely missed the point! I'm pissed at you, you _abandoned_ me after telling me you have feelings for me, and you didn't even stick around to see if I felt the same, and you—"

"Sesel," Antonio interrupts, looking up from the floor and straight into her eyes, "I know what I did, okay? I know, and I'm so, so sorry, and I know that doesn't make up for anything, but… I do care about you, which is why I did what I did at first, and why I'm back here now. Sesel, I… need to know."

Sesel swallows around the lump in her throat, trying hard to keep a straight face and continue to glare vindictively at Antonio. She wants to stay angry at him, she doesn't want to just forgive him this easily, but… he says all the right things, goddamn him. Steeling her expression and crossing her arms at the Spaniard, she asks, "You need to know what, Antonio?"

The man in front of her sighs softly, and Sesel knows what he's going to ask before he even says it. "Do you feel the same about me?"

And there it is. The moment of truth, at least for her, Antonio had his own yesterday. As much as Sesel wants to stay mad at Antonio for being a jerk and an idiot and… and any other name she can possibly think to call him, she can't deny her feelings for him. Not to herself, anyway, and she's pretty sure she doesn't want to hide them from Antonio anymore, either. For too long she's stared at him, from the staircase or across the table or out her bedroom window. She's listened to him talk, to her or to her father or to someone entirely different. She's watched him play guitar and she's watched him be silly and serious and everything in between. She's admired him in one way or another for so, so long… and it's time for something to give. She nods her head slowly at the Spaniard and then reaches out and pulls Antonio into a cautious hug. "Yes… Yes, Toni, I do feel the same way." Sesel can't spin her words and sentences into gold quite like he did, but she's said enough to get her point across.

It's enough for Toni, anyway. Sesel looks up to see the Spaniard smiling down at her as though he just won the lottery. He returns her hug, but the embrace does not last for long, and his beaming grin drops into a troubled frown. "What about Francis? He's not going to be happy."

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><p><strong>God, not only did I make you all wait forever, but then I ended at the worst place possible. I ran out of steam. I apologize. I love you. <strong>


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